Beyond the hatch, an angle, formed by a projection in the wall of some three or four feet, served to hide a door conducting to the interior of the prison. Vitally, she had the letter that proved her identity as a Charvill: the one her father had written to the Abbess when he sent her to the convent. The windows of these rooms were obscured with draperies, their floors a carpet patchwork; the china ornaments on their mantels were of a class apart. ‘You are related to General Lord Charvill?’ ‘Monsieur le baron, he is my grandpére,’ she confirmed. Squire and master. ’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. The face that looked down upon Ann Veronica was full of amiable intention.
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